


Love on Top

by FiccinDylan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (or a good double dicking), Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Rimming, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Hale, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Explicit Halecest, Explicit Steter, Fellatio, HaleCest, Light Angst, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mistaken Identity, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter-centric, References to Bottom Derek, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Stiles Stilinski, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Unreliable Narrator, Young Peter Hale, please read the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiccinDylan/pseuds/FiccinDylan
Summary: Peter Hale has always loved his nephew, but a series of events has caused there to be an impenetrable divide between them.  Now he sees the defences of his nephew causing friction between him and his mate.  Stiles doesn’t deserve that, but Peter can’t think of a way to help.That is until he gets a very peculiar gift, and knows just how to use it to its greatest advantage.+++++Please read the notes!





	Love on Top

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirius_bucky_solo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius_bucky_solo/gifts).



> Yes, it's another one of my crazy ship crossover thingies! There are a couple of surprises and nothing is as it seems so jump ino the deep end! First off, Happy Birthday to the most darling of darlings! It's a little late, but I hope you enjoy it. You requested toppy Stiles with steterek, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Next: This has Stiles and Derek as the foils, but this is really a Halecest fic with a representative core of Steter. Please keep that in mind. The sterek love is there, but this isn't a typical sterek story. If you have any questions, ask me in the comments. 
> 
> My headcanon for young Peter remains the beautiful Michael Fjordbak who is spectacularly beautiful both inside and out. And an amazing actor in that he portrayed Young Peter so adeptly. 
> 
> And finally a quick note about tags: If you have a question about content that you don't see tagged, or about why I used a certain tag, ask me, but I was very specific with the ones I chose so trust me. I'm 84 fics in kids, if you don't know me by now... ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

.. 

“No, _Alpha_ , I don’t think that would be a good fucking idea, and I think you should reconsider before you start something that could get us all killed!”

“Don’t be a dick, Stiles! You know we can’t afford to look weak in front of them and if they’ve sent their messenger it means they are coming. We can’t keep avoiding this!”

Peter watches the two bicker from his normal spot, perched on the stairs of the spiral staircase leading to his area. He sighs as he watches his so called alpha and his magical mate argue over the appearance of some supernatural threat to their wayward town.

Stiles pokes Derek in the chest and Derek grabs his finger pulling the boy into his body. Stiles resists him, pushing the wolf away and storming off in anger. Peter shakes his head.

‘ _That boy clearly needs to give a good dicking,_ ’ he thinks, clenching his own asshole as though in agreeance with himself. Derek was always so obstinate and stubborn when they were younger. He trusted Peter until the Paige thing and after that he seemingly refused to be vulnerable around Peter. He’s sure that Stiles, the boy with whom he turned an antagonistic relationship into one of antagonistic fucking has never had the opportunity to see Derek’s vulnerabilities much less ever topped the temperamental wolf.

It was a shame too, on both ends. Peter knows Stiles is well packed, if the bulge in his jeans is anything to go by, or the glimpse he got after those harpies shredded his clothes in the preserve. And Derek has always been a sensitive boy, before they fell out the first time, he and Derek would give each other hand jobs or blow jobs, just experimental kid shit. Derek always found a way of tucking Peter’s fingers inside of him. Peter grins and rubs his forefinger and thumb together, remembering fondly.

“Oh fuck you, Peter!” Peter’s attention snaps to Stiles who has come in from outside and is watching Peter angrily. Peter’s brow furrows in confusion, wondering what slight he’s committed this time. Was the simple fact of his existence enough to instill rage in the hearts of emissary-in-training teens? God, he hoped so, he’s been laying the bricks for this path for a long time.

“How have I enraged you, Stiles? I assure you, it wasn’t my intention.” Peter goes for the wide eyed innocent look (with just a side of casting couch conniving) as Stiles continues to glare at him.

“What? Isn’t that supposed to be the world’s smallest violin? Like I’m just a complaining neophyte who doesn’t know my ass from my elbow?”

“I’m sure you’re very much in touch with all of your body parts, Stiles.”

“Jerk off jokes, really? This isn’t even-”

“Stiles!” Peter places both hands up, trying to placate the younger’s mood. “I was daydreaming, the last thing on my mind was anything that you were saying to my dear nephew, I assure you. Your ass and elbow remain judgement free in my eyes.”

Stiles snorts, then sighs, sitting on the couch.

“He won’t listen. I mean, he will eventually, but it’s so much work to convince him of the right thing to do that it’s annoying as shit, and all it does is waste time. You think my idea is a good one, right?” Stiles looks to Peter who now actually wishes he had been paying attention.

“Really, Stiles. I have no idea what you two were arguing about, but you have a commanding presence and a pretty good success rate. I’m sure whatever you decided is the better of the two options.”

“He’s your alpha.” Stiles says, sadly… potently. “I mean, not to argue against myself, but he’s the protector of these lands, he’s got a lot on his plate. You trust him, right?”

Peter shrugs, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, “Derek is the alpha of Beacon Hills, Stiles. I just live here.” He stands and begins to make his way upstairs.

“What happened between you two?” Stiles asks, his eyes boring holes into Peter’s back. “I mean… I know about Paige, but was there something else? What’s keeping you two from-”

Peter turns his head slightly, only minutely catching eyes with the ever curious boy.

“Derek’s ability to close himself off from those he loves is a trait that I admit became fostered with the Paige fiasco. I can’t help what was. You can’t go back, Pet.” He hurries quickly back up the stairs to his room before Stiles can ask anymore questions and settles into his window seat with a book. He looks out into the preserve and wonders.

Damn, the things Peter would do to Stiles if he’d let him. Peter thinks of the ways he would have taken Derek apart, the ways that Derek could be taking Stiles apart, but probably wasn’t. Peter could fix that. Derek needed someone to pacify him, to show him it was okay to rely on someone else, to give yourself to someone you trusted and loved. Derek needed someone that would wreck that bussy. He was confident Stiles could do it. He’d never met a person as determined as Stiles, as needy to please. Lydia was close, but she was missing Stiles’ desperation. That innate thirst that showed he would do anything to accomplish his goals.

Stiles topping wouldn’t be some over the top form of aggression, but instead Stiles showing that he had strength and more importantly, control over that strength. To support the beleaguered alpha at every turn, and in every way. Derek would never trust Peter again to provide that for him. Not after so long, after so much had happened between them. He needed Stiles, needed to stop pushing him away with his overwrought angst and self loathing. Peter knew, could see it in Derek’s eyes when he argued with the boy. He was clearly head over heels for him, but there was something there, something unrecognizable to Peter. And Peter didn’t like things he couldn’t recognize, they usually proved to be dangerous.

Yes, Derek needed someone he could trust, someone he could depend on, someone who would ride him into oblivion the way he deserves. And since that person couldn’t be Peter anymore, it would have to be Stiles.

But how to get Stiles to take the reins? If Peter had looked as he had as a teenager, he could easily persuade Stiles to trust him. He was tall, but thin, with more of a swimmer’s build. He landed on the right side of precocious which made him charming to elders and cooly detached to his peers. He knows he would have landed Stiles right away, wouldn’t have had to have that desperate encounter in the parking garage with a trench coat. Peter shudders at the memory of that. It was so terribly _déclassé_.

No, teenage him would charm the pants off of Stiles, and later charm that dick into his ass. Nowadays he was too jaded. He was… not innocent when he was younger, hardly at best, but rather he was… _enthusiastic_. About the future, about his life then. He was surrounded by people he loved and Derek looked up to him like a hero. That was before everything went to shit.

“If only I could be young again.” Peter muses to himself as he watches the sunset against the familiar horizon, “I could be what both of them need.” Stiles would trust him and let him show him how to take care of Derek, the way he deserved. They would be better and it would all be because of Peter. He sighs wistfully before falling into a restful slumber, and dreams of the possibilities.

******

Peter’s eyes flutter open as a squirrel nibbles at his big toe. He’s confused as to how a squirrel not only got into his bedroom, but evidently brought along the forest floor from the back of his house. Unless, of course, he wasn’t in his room. Unless, he was in the middle of the forest, naked and spread out near the place he and Derek used to come as children. It was serene, this spot, he hasn’t been in years. Plants yielding edible berries brush along the edges of an actual babbling brook. More than why he’s there now, Peter wonders why he hasn’t visited. Perhaps it’s too quiet and peaceful? Two things Peter hasn’t been in quite a while.

He sits up and stretches, feeling light, nearly effervescent. He feels as though years have been shaved from his life. He looks back towards the house through the clearing and sees his sheers hanging outside of the window. He must have fallen asleep and slipped through the window. Maybe while he was healing he transformed into a wolf and came out here? He and his wolf hadn’t seen eye to eye since he lost the alpha power, or more succinctly, since he died. As a child though, he could transform back and forth freely.

Maybe the healing process triggered a kind of survival instinct that called the wolf forward? Peter shrugs to himself and heads towards the brook to drink and wash his face. It’s when he looks into the water, seeing his doe-eyed expression, that he gets at least some reasoning for what’s going on.

It’s him, but younger him. _17 Again_ him. He’s gorgeous, of course, his sparkling blue eyes shine belying the troubles of his older counterpart. He’s supple, his skin fights tightly over his lithe muscles, but it's smooth to the touch with barely any body hair save for a trimmed happy trail and respectable amount of bush.

“How fortuitous.” He hums to himself before lightly chiding his own verbiage. Kids don’t say things like ‘ _fortuitous_ ’, “Yo, this is _dope_ , son!” He cringes. He’ll work on it. He didn’t know how, but he was _back_ , and damn it all if he was going to question, or not take advantage of it. Peter runs back to the house, loving the way his younger lungs turn the crisp air into even more power for him. He jumps the side of the house, easily climbing the trellis and slipping into his window smoothly. It was a weekday morning. He has to get ready for school!

He giddily showers, knowing that most of the pack has already left and Derek would be in town running errands. He sneaks into Isaac’s room and lifts some clothes. His own clothes were way too big and he wants to show off some of his assets. Plus, although he makes fun of the young man any chance he gets, Isaac does have impeccable taste in scarves. As long as they didn’t run into each other, Peter thinks he could get away with borrowing some for the week.

He writes a note and leaves it on his pillow. It’s from his older self, leaving news of a spontaneous walkabout the elder wolf was taking. It was in character for Peter to take an unannounced sabbatical here and there so he’s sure it won't rouse suspicion, he’ll just rent a hotel for the length of the blessed spell. He’s sure if it is the gift he thinks it is, it won’t wear off until Stiles or Derek are balls deep inside of him. Hopefully that’ll come sooner or later. Or one before the other, but really both is fine too.

“That was lazy, young Peter. We’re better than that.” Peter says to his reflection as he fixes his hair. He needs to look delectable, and an equal mixture of trouble and someone in trouble. Stiles definitely has a hero complex and loves to save wayward things. Peter will use that to his advantage.

He heads to the school with a copy of Stiles’ schedule stolen from Derek’s office and a backpack he found in the attic. He’s stuffed some random books inside and found two pencils and a pen. He wasn’t worried about getting in. Hell, Beacon Hills security was lax at best, ironically, this was especially true at the high school. If Ethan and Aiden (both of whom were older than Peter’s actual age) could get in, he’s sure his presence would be a breeze, if it went noticed at all.

He’s confident and high on life, bathed in enthusiasm and cocky without merit. He’s missed this. Peter walks confidently inside the school, bypassing the principal’s office and heading directly to Applied Chemistry. It’s Stiles’ first class and incidentally one he doesn’t share with any of the other pack members. He enters the room smoothly gliding past the boy and noting he was right that Stiles and he would be about the same height, but Stiles would be just a bit wider in the shoulders. That’s going to be fun for him.

They share a look as Peter saunters up to the teacher.

“Hello, Mrs. Standish?” he asks, looking at his doctored schedule. The teacher looks up at him confused, but nods. “I’m the new transfer student from Beacon West. It looks likes something happened to my papers, when I went to the office poor Mrs. Smith looked like she’d seen a ghost. They just told me to come here and they’d get it worked out. Is that okay?”

Mrs. Standish looks like she’s going to call the office, but rethinks it as the final bell rings. She sighs, and waves her hand, completely aware of the bureaucratic nonsense of the Beacon Country education system.

“Of course, dear. Umm, for now we’ll just pair you up with Stiles, he’s been without a lab partner all semester. What’s your name?” Peter holds up a copy of the schedule, coyly covering his name and waving it quickly.

“Jack. Jack Twist.”

Behind him, Stiles lets out a snort, though no one else -including Mrs. Standish- seems to notice.

“Stiles, this is Jack, he’s your new partner. Catch him up please. Gil, no, do not set that on fire without your goggles!” Mrs. Standish scampers off while Stiles looks Peter up and down, assessing the situation.

“Hello Jack, Jack Twist.” He says with a cocked brow. Peter makes a gesture of tipping his hat, causing Stiles to chuckle. “Well, that’s a goddamned bitch of an unsatisfactory naming experience, Jack. If you don’t mind my saying.”

Peter shrugs and sets down his bag before picking up the set of instructions. He reads them absently. “Well, I couldn’t fix it, so I had to stand it.”

Stiles laughs again, this time brightly, filling up the room with a kind of invisible light. Peter has always thought Stiles was something of an enigma. The spark that could always set him off.

“Well read, my kind of man.” Stiles says through his laughs. He’s labeling beakers and peering at Peter every now and again. Peter knows he’s seeing more than he lets on, he just hopes it’s not enough to give him away.

“Am I? Your kind of man?” He asks cheekily. He knows he should rein it in, but he can’t help it. Stiles is saucy little minx. He’s fun to play with. Stiles huffs and side eyes Peter before putting the beaker down. He takes a step into his comfort zone and leans into the wolf.

“Well I don’t know, Jack. Is it a problem? My having a _kind of man_? I don’t know how _crazy_ they like to get at Beacon West.”

“I was always a bit more progressive than my peers, I found.” Peter answers quickly, making sure to keep up with Stiles, knowing the boy was constantly two steps ahead. “I like to think I’m you’re type of man, you’re type of woman, you’re type of whatever you want.”

Stiles takes a step back and Peter notices him chewing at his bottom lip. He does it when he’s particularly contemplative. Peter’s plan was working.

“Well Jack, my actual kind of man is of the older, more growly variety.”

“I see,” Peter notices the shift in attitude and decides on another tactic, “So… speaking of dumb ass names-”

“Hey!”

“What’s the deal with yours?” Peter keeps his face controlled as Stiles slaps at him playfully.

“Dammit, you’re an ass, I knew I’d like you.” Stiles says, lightly punching Peter on the shoulder. Peter smiles. This was going to work.

He hangs out in the library or the field during the day until lunch. He doesn’t want to go to the cafeteria lest he be seen or smelled by other members of the pack so he does his best to keep his distance and stay downwind. He notices Stiles coming out of a class with Boyd and when they part ways Stiles runs into the parking lot arguing with someone on his phone.

Peter follows at a safe distance and see Stiles launch himself through the passenger seat window of the Camaro. He shakes his head as Stiles sloppily kisses his mate and then bristles when just a moment later Stiles begins yelling at Derek about something. Peter can see Derek’s walls instantly go up and he sighs. They argue for a bit more before Stiles climbs out of the Camaro and heads to the driver’s side. He looks around before ducking his head in and kissing Derek tensely goodbye. He whispers something else causing the wolf to grimace and drive away.

This was exactly the thing that Peter wanted to stop. Derek needed to be able to open up and trust Stiles and for Derek that meant taking one for the team. Or 9…. inches, of Stiles’ engorged cock. And it wasn’t just to benefit Derek! Stiles needed the satisfaction and joy of providing for his mate. Nothing could do that boy better than the ebullient and therapeutic release of an eager bottom.

Peter knew he was up for the task, and the tension between Derek and Stiles seemed to imply that duty was calling.

Peter shows up in Stiles’ last class, _African American Lit_ , and the two are assigned to write a paper on the influence of jazz musicians on AA Lit during the Harlem Renaissance. Peter invites himself to Stiles’ place the following afternoon to work on the paper and Stiles agrees.

************************

Peter arrives at Stiles’ house exactly at 5pm like they planned. The sheriff is on duty for the night so Peter went to the hotel and changed, even lubing up in anticipation. He’d went to the mall for a few things and put on a pair of tight jeans that lifted his bubble butt nicely, and a cotton t-shirt with a deep V. If he leaned over _juuuust_ right it would expose a smattering of nipple. Stiles was going to eat him alive.

“‘Sup, Jack.” Stiles greets the boy warmly as he lets him into his house. Peter can’t help but notice Stiles’ gaze travel after his ass, those jeans were worth every penny. “Did… did you _change_?” The boy asks, closing the door behind him. Peter shrugs.

“I thought I’d get into something more comfortable for our study session. I figured we had a lot of hard work to do.”

“Are those jeans _comfortable_? They look nearly painted on.”

“Well your eyes appear to be well rested so I’d say, mission accomplished.”

Stiles watches him carefully, hands in his pockets, causing his biceps to flex under the Henley he’s wearing. The Henley used to belong to Derek. It’s been washed enough to fit Stiles like a second skin. Stiles narrows his eyes.

“Look, Jack.”

“Shall we get started?” Peter asks quickly, trying to redirect. He pulls out some notes and an anthology of Harlem Renaissance literature setting them on the table. He also pulls out a mini speaker. “I brought some music of the time. I figure some Duke Ellington or Louis will set the mood nicely.”

Peter turns on the speaker and the soulful wail of Bird Parker’s horn floods into the room. It’s romantic and haunting, everything Peter wants to be for Stiles.

“You like to dance, Stiles?” He asks, setting the speaker on the table and taking a step towards the boy. Stiles huffs, but extends an arm, surprised when Peter wraps his own around Stiles’ neck. They sway to the music slowly and Peter lays his head on Stiles’ shoulder.

“I’ve told you about my boyfriend.” Stiles whispers, not at all releasing his hold from around Peter’s waist or moving attention away from the growing interest nudging Peter’s thigh. The wolf snorts lightly.

“Actually no, Stiles, you haven’t told me about any boyfriend, just that you had a _kind of man_.”

“I told you that my _kind of man_ was older and growly and that specificity should have led you to realize that I have a fucking boyfriend.” Stiles runs his hands up Peter’s hips and snakes them around his waist, resting them directly above the elder’s ass. “That… and the fact that I haven’t jumped your bones yet.”

“We only just met.” Peter said softly, going up on his tiptoes slightly, encouraging Stiles’ hands to go down further. They comply.

“Well, what can I say? I’m easy.” Stiles quips. Peter can’t help the laugh that escapes him though he’s surprised at how giddy the flirtation makes him. Has he been this out of practice? When he got back, he really needed to start dating again. If anyone in the city limits would have him.

“Despite that admission, I’m pretty flattered. It’s not everyday the hottest kid in school hits on the new kid.”

“Can’t claim to be the hottest kid in school when Boyd and Jackson exist.”

“They’re pretty, yes, but you’ve got something else. A certain charm about you, Stiles. It’s really special. It makes me feel special. You have that effect on people, allowing them to feel blessed by your presence.” Peter can’t see Stiles’ face, but he imagines the different contortions it’s going through. The boy never could take a compliment well.

“I shouldn’t, be so naturally welcoming probably. I have a boyfriend. I don’t mind the flirty shit, but I’m with someone and-”

“You’re a teenager, you shouldn’t be tied down.”

“Maybe I’m being too casual. He’s my mate, Jack. He’s a big deal around here. He’s it for me.”

“And yet, you’re here with me?” Peter asks. He’s prepared to bolt if he needs to, but so far Stiles hasn’t stopped moving in time to the music, nor has he tensed up. He simply has one hand tucked into the back pocket of Peter’s jeans and is using the other one to rub up and down Peter’s back, occasionally he runs his fingers through the hair at Peter’s nape.. Peter knew that Stiles’ fingers would be a revelation, he just never imagined he’d get to experience it.

“He’s very busy.” Stiles has been talking for a bit and Peter misses the bulk of it. But it sounds like further justifications of Derek’s shitty behavior. “He finds ways to attend to the needs of his family, Jack. He’s a good a- uhh, he’s a good _leader_.”

“Some say you can’t be a good alpha and a good boyfriend.”

Stiles stops and pulls his head back. Peter understands what he said, the implications of it, and Stiles watches him carefully, for any clue of who this outsider is. looking deeply into Peter’s sparkling crystal blue eyes. They’d stayed mostly the same but there is a stormy presence that seems to darken those of his older counterpart. He blinks twice before taking his hand and caressing Peter’s jaw, running his finger along Peter’s lip and the wolf can’t help but slurp it into his mouth. He flashes his eyes quickly, causing Stiles to intake a breath as Peter’s fangs elongate around Stiles’ thumb.

“Where’s your pack?”

“We’re nomadic. Not even passing through Beacon Hills which is why we haven’t met up with your alpha. We’re going through the west side back up to Portland.”

“The Maynard Pack?” Stiles was trying to trick Peter. God, he loved that. Peter shakes his head.

“No, the Maynard Pack is closer to Eugene. We’re loosely affiliated with the Kincaids though my pack has roots in Vancouver. Alpha Monsieur Dolan.”

Peter can see Stiles filing the information into the different sections of his brain, some for follow-up, others for storage. The music has stopped and the two men stand across from each other, Peter’s hands placed on Stiles’ pecs.

“What do you want from me, Jack?” Stiles asks simply, though the question is filled with such motive.

“It’s not about what I need or want, Stiles. It’s not a question of what I want from you, but more… what I want _for_ you. That he won’t give.”

“What do you know about him? How long have you been here, watching?” Stiles asks. He’s not angry, but he’s becoming wary, a bit guarded and wild. Peter can work with that.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day, Stiles. I’ve seen enough. Seen him withhold his affection from you.” Peter rubs Stiles’ breasts in soothing circles, tracing his fingers along the human’s collarbone and listening to his heart beat at it’s normal accelerated rate. “I’ve seen the way he dismisses you, how reticent he can get, the walls that he builds that shade you from him.”

“You’re projecting, or at the very least misinterpreting-”

“I know you love him, Stiles.” This seems to settle the boy slightly. On one hand he’s still very much suspicious, but on the other hand there’s a part of him that’s glad their affection for each other shines through. It’s a type of vanity that he normally doesn’t have access too, and when it’s kindled it becomes a distraction. Peter grins sweetly, “There’s no reason to feel improper about it. You have your needs and if he’s unable or unwilling then you’ve got to get them from somewhere. His ego and pride don’t have the right to keep you unsatisfied. The only thing you ask from him is his vulnerability and he won’t-”

“You don’t even know him.” Stiles says plainly. Peter shrugs.

“I’ve seen it enough times before.” He’s experienced it enough before, “I know that here you two are probably ‘ _Stiles and his alpha_ ’ and it’s all very out of the box, but some things don’t change. Relationships don’t change. I don’t know him-” _anymore_ , Peter adds to himself reluctantly, “but I know you. I see that look of tension that sits in your shoulders, the way you stiffen up when he’s around.”

Peter moves himself impossibly closer, leaning into Stiles’ neck and kissing it gently as he slips one hand up Stiles’ shirt, teasing lightly at his nipple. The other hand works on the boy’s belt buckle.

“I don’t think that’s me, Jack.” Stiles protests, though still not stopping any of Peter’s movements.

“So it’s him? He’s the one who _clenches_ around you?” Peter says as he pops the top button on Stiles’ jeans. The wordplay is not lost on the boy’s face, but it goes unacknowledged.

“Let’s leave him out of this.”

“Shhh… Stiles. Let me take care of you.”

Stiles sighs.

“Yeah… okay.”

***

Peter has Stiles pushed back on his bed and can’t help but take a moment to bask in the situation. He’s finally got this little shit nailed down and he’s about to get taken in the boy's childhood bed. It was a page ripped directly from his dreams journal come to life. Peter had only fantasized about this before with merely a vibrating butt plug to aid him. Hell, if it goes well he might try to sneak it with him the next time.

He slides his hands menacingly up Stiles’ calves, taking time to rake his nails over his hair thighs as he settles on his belly between the boy’s legs. He sniffs around, inhaling the tacky tree sap scent that seemed to be a major note in the human’s smell. He loves it, loves how it connects Stiles to the forest, to their home. He slurps one of Stiles’ balls into his mouth and sucks on them alternately before licking a smooth line from the base of Stiles’ cock to the tip. Stiles is grasping at the sheets, but maintaining constant eye contact with the wolf, his gaze emoting equal parts horniness and apprehension. Peter suckles gently at Stiles’ head, gathering some of the bittersweet pre on his tongue before gliding up teenager's body, leaving pecks long his Apollo’s belt, his nipples, his collar bone, the thick, meaty column of his neck, and finally just off of the side of his pout. He’s about to kiss the cum into Stiles’ mouth when the boy moves his head to the side.

“I don’t mind your mouth on me, but I’d rather not with the kissing.” It wasn’t a question, or a request, just a firm statement, one made without judgement or pretense. Peter, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth- smiles and shrugs, swallowing inelegantly before slithering back down between Stiles’ legs.

“For what I had in mind, your lips are the last things I want to kiss.”

Before Stiles can ask for clarification, Peter is sucking the young boy down his throat until his lips press into the boy’s forest of pubes. A thrill races up his spine as he feels Stiles’ entire body clench and the boy lets out a keening howl. Peter begins to slowly move his head up and down, sucking strongly, his tongue gliding over the velvet slick of Stiles’ cock, bringing him just to the edge before bungee-ing him back.

He thinks about when he used to do this with Derek. They were both young, Derek was only a few years past fully understanding what his dick was even for and how he could use it for pleasure. Peter taught him a lot. Oddly enough that’s when they felt closest, when Derek’s dick was lodged in Peter’s throat, or his fingers teasing at Derek’s rosebud. Peter was ready to take things to the next level and then Derek met Paige.

“You have to stop. If… if you want me to fuck you, you gotta stop.” Stiles’ fingers are wrapped in Peter’s hair, tugging him from Stiles’ hardened and trembling cock. Peter nods saucily and finishes disrobing. He rolls to Stiles’ side and gets on all fours, arching his back like a cat readying for a nap in a sunbeam. Stiles grunts as he rounds behind Peter, placing both hands on his cheeks and exposing his asshole.

“A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” Stiles indicates by smoothly slipping his thumb into Peter’s wet, gasping hole. He pumps it in and out, lightly scratching his nail against the wolf’s sensitive rim causing him to buck and moan. Peter still manages to quip.

“I always like to come prepared. Or rather, I’m always prepared to come.”

“Fucking really?” Stiles says, trying to school the grin on his face, but failing, “That was pretty terrible, dude. And that’s coming from _me_.”

“You don’t like my clever word play? You should find a way to shut me _uhh-_ ” Peter’s breath is knocked from him as Stiles replaces his thumb with the tip of his dick and roughly nudges it inside Peter’s throbbing rim. The wolf’s inner heat squeeze around the girthy rod and he exhales as Stiles _slowly_ fills him up. He hasn’t been fucked in a long time, not by an actual person. He was expecting it to be good, but it hasn’t expecting it to be like this.

It’s not nostalgia, but rather, the memory of a dream. Something he’d wished for him and Derek. The young wolf was always so preoccupied, so serious. He was the youngest boy for a long time before Cora came along, and the need to be first was something he could never escape. Even though he rebelled as a teen and claimed he wanted to be alone and go unnoticed, he always clamoured to be first in school, get good grades, be likable, have lots of friends. Some are built for such a station, but not Derek, and Peter could see it was wearing on him. He wanted to be a sort of release for his nephew. A place he could go where he could just be himself. He’s only ever wanted to be there for Derek, the way Peter’s own siblings could never be there for him.

He felt transformed back to this dream. He could imagine it was Derek, pistoning over enthusiastic hips against the back of his thighs, the _slap, slap, slap_ creating a filthy rhythm of satisfied lust between the two joining them together in an inescapable bond. He can imagine the sweat on Derek’s forehead dripping onto the small of Peter’s back, he leans over the elder wolf, trying to anchor himself as he becomes a slave to his release. Peter would let him, he’d bear the boy’s entire weight if he had to, let him fill him over and over again until he was overflowing, Derek’s cum seeping from his hole and gliding messily down his thighs.

“I told you to keep him out of this.” Stiles rasps raggedly into Peter’s ear. Peter shakes his head, trying to regain some semblance of… of _something_.

“Apologies, Pet, I-”

“What?”

“Nothing, just fuck me, oh god, there! Harder, right there!” Stiles’ dick grazes over Peter’s prostate causing lightning strikes of pleasure to ignite all over his body. He feels like he’s internally combusting and the fire was being set from within. The tip of Stiles’ dick is the matchstick that’s going to cause him to implode.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna- _ugggh_ -” Stiles rams his hips into Peter’s thighs, thrusting his cock deeply into the wolf and coming inside. He shakes with convulsions and tries clumsily to move them on their sides to avoid the wet spot Peter left untouched on Stiles’ comforter.

“You feel… taken care of…. Jack?” Stiles asks in between breaths. Peter rests his head back on Stiles’ pec and grins.

“This was all about you, Stiles. How do you feel?” He waits a beat for an answer, but the only response he gets is Stiles snoring lightly. He can’t help but find it endearing.

********

Peter sees Stiles twice more that weekend.

The first time is back at Stiles’ house. He bends him over the back of his couch and before finishing reaches around and pulls Peter to orgasm. As he cums, Stiles whispers sweet assurances into Peter’s ear. Tells him he’s good. Peter hasn’t been called good in a very long time, hell, he hasn’t _been_ good for much longer. He would try to believe it, he supposes, if he weren’t cuckolding his nephew’s lover. He lazily considers the ends to be justified by the means and tries to block out Stiles’ ongoing affirmations. It mostly works.

The second time is Sunday afternoon at their brook in the preserve, Peter and Derek’s. Peter knows he shouldn’t have taken Stiles there. It was too dangerous, too close and intimate, but Stiles followed willingly.

“How do you know about this place? Do you come through Beacon County often?” Stiles asks as he strips and splashes into the brook. He glides in comfortably, as though this is his second home though Peter isn’t sure if Stiles even knew this place existed. The scene before Peter is astounding. The creamy warmth of Stiles skin glistening from the cooling water of the brook. The wolf swallows and begins to disrobe as well.

“We migrate every season, so yeah, we’ve been through here a couple of times.” He walks slowly into the stream, loving the feel of the river bottom between his toes. “Didn’t realize this was Hale land, it looks completely untouched.”

“Derek doesn’t come here.” Stiles explains with a playful splash in Peter’s direction.

“It’s a pity, it’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah. If I’d known about it, I’d be here all the time. I’ll probably make him come here now. I hope that won’t be a problem for you.”

Peter swims to Stiles and wraps his arms around the boy’s shoulders. They really are just so broad.

“Why would that be a problem for me?”

“Well, Jack. You’ve gotten away with going through these lands undetected all these years. I’m going to out one of your hiding spots, is that going to be an issue? I want you to be comfortable.” It feels like a cover, Stiles watches him expectantly as they bob around in the water. Peter grins.

“We’ll find a way, Stiles. You don’t ever have to worry about me. I’m a survivor. I’ll always get by.”

“But will you be okay?”

“I just said-”

“Those aren’t the same thing, _Jack_.”

Peter watches the twinkle in Stiles’ translucent amber eyes. He knows the boy has always discounted or downplayed them, but his eyes have always been stunning to the wolf. He knows Derek thinks so too. He remembers many a day of Derek complaining about the human with the radiant eyes, setting his heart ablaze.

“C’mon, let’s get out before we get all pruny.” Peter leads Stiles on to the bank and over to a tree with a mossy bottom. He sits him down and straddles him, stroking his cock firmly and kissing his neck until he hardens. Peter came pre-lubed again so Stiles goes to work opening him up on his fingers, coaxing sighs from the world weary wolf at the stroke of his long tips.

Peter rides him hard. Squeezes his eyes shut and bounces in his lap, haphazardly chasing the feeling of euphoria that bookmarks his past joy. The time in his life where he wasn’t a murderer, wasn’t a villain, wasn’t a blood thirsty mongrel hellbent on revenge.

“Yes, Jack, you’re so good, so good for me.” He wants to be good. Wants to believe Stiles’ words, wants to be good for Derek too, but he knows he can’t, it’s too late, isn’t it? He bucks against the human until he’s coming hot streaks all over Stiles’ torso, reaching all the way up to his neck. Stiles holds his hips into place, thrusting up into the tight wet heat, uncaring of the muddy slap of his ass into the dirt or the noises the grunting, hissing wolf was making that only got louder and louder. When Stiles comes he digs his nails into the wolf’s waist, moaning roughly with his head cocked back, toes curled, his entire body seizing before unfurling with the voracity of his release. He lays back against the tree, limp and sated, panting as Peter continues to catch his breath with his forehead pressed into Stiles’ shoulder.

He can’t help himself, which is why he does what he does next. Peter lifts his head and slots his lips over Stiles’, his tongue seeking permission for entrance. He needs this, needs to feel wanted, to feel okay. He needs to feel in Stiles, everything that Derek could never give him. Please, Stiles. If only he would just-

Stiles’ opens his mouth and sucks softly on the wolf’s tongue, easing it with his own, allowing Peter to _take, take, take_ what he was so desperate for. They kiss for a while, languidly in the idyllic setting and after a moment Peter draws his head back, catching his breath. His eyes are still closed but in the back of his lids he can see Derek’s face, so young and cherubic, so innocent and full of hope and wonder. Before Laura, before Kate, before Paige. When Derek still loved him. When Derek _could_ still love him.

He blinks and sees Stiles watching him carefully. Can feel the boy’s hand running through his hair, gliding over his cheek, the side of his neck. He’s wincing slightly, in the last glimmerings of sun though it still makes his eyes look cherry red, like a thick maple syrup. A richness in the hazel tones that reminds Peter of Derek’s eyes when he was that age. Peter thumbs Stiles’ Adam’s apple, tracing the movement as the boy swallows heavily.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Stiles grins, kindly, “It’s okay. It wasn’t really me you were kissing anyway, was it?” Stiles tweaks Peter’s nose playfully before leaning back, folding his arms behind your head. “What’s your story, Jack? You’re truly a mystery, aren’t you?”

Peter doesn’t answer. Just lays his head in the crook of Stiles’ neck as the boy rubs soothing strokes up and down his back. They fuck twice more, once on the sandy bank and again at the stone entrance of a cave beneath a small waterfall. Each time after, Stiles holds Peter in his arms and whispers sweet assurances, and each time they’re different. Each time Peter allows himself to consider what if they weren’t all lies. They leave as nightfall shadows the town with a promise to see each other at school the next day.

*****

He’s going to the pack house.

It’s a bad idea, Peter knows inherently that it’s a terrible idea. But something in Stiles’ insistence, something in the promise of… well, Stiles promised nothing. Told him nothing, really, but there’s something there. An answer? Maybe even possibly a solution?

“Come to my house today.” Is how the conversation started. It was innocently enough and Peter agreed right away while they were mixing chemicals for lab. It wasn’t until later in AA Lit that Stiles clarified.

“Just come home with me after school. I brought the Jeep so we can head straight out to the preserve.” Peter blinked at him confused.

“I thought we were going to your house?”

“Well, the pack house is basically my second home. I have a room there with Derek.” Stiles looks insistent, ready to fight if Peter withdraws. Of course Peter tries his best to withdraw, and he refuses to let a small thing like social grace get in the way.

“Look Stiles, I’m not saying you’re a cheating whore-”

“Jack, you're a nomad, right?” Stiles interrupts with a roll of his eyes. “You come through town every few months, and now I know about your secret hidey holes _and_ you’ve experienced the addictive powers of mah _love stick_ -”

“This is why your boyfriend doesn’t pay attention to you, you know this, right?”

“Which _means_ -” Stiles continues undaunted, “-that we’re going to see each other again. So you’re going to come to my house. Besides, my dad is home tonight, but he’s got a date with a lady friend and I need to make myself scarce. And god only knows where you live, I assume a van of some sort?”

Peter snorts derisively, clearly offended. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a mecca, but the hotel he found was 4 stars nonetheless. They have a restaurant with an inhouse band, for goodness sake.

“So you’ll come to my place. Don’t worry, Derek will be out, and Boyd and Isaac are going to spend the night at Jackson’s. The girls are all doing something over Allison’s, everything is gonna be fine.” Stiles explains with the kind of detachment that tells Peter he could really give a fuck if ‘Jack’ knows these people or not.

“Won’t they notice a different smelling wolf is in their den?” Peter asks. Before Stiles can answer Mr. Christie clears his throat, inviting the boys to pay attention to the presentation he’s giving on Langston Hughes. Peter sighs, it wasn’t like Stiles was going to answer him anyway.

*****

So there they were, standing in front of the packhouse. Peter tunes his ear in trying to find some sign of life inside while Stiles blabs to him.

“Been here for generations, this land is extremely fertile and extremely powerful. I’m studying to be an emissary for the Hale pack one day and restore this land to its former glory. There are a lot of parts that lay unlocked, I need help uncovering them all, understanding their beauty and power.” Stiles stares at Peter who nods and then shrugs before walking into the house. He instinctively starts walking to his spiral staircase, but thankfully Stiles stops him.

“Not that one, that leads to Derek’s uncle’s wing. He’s out of town, probably snorting coke out of some twink’s ass, or maybe even helping to build a house somewhere. You never know with that guy.”

“Sounds like a character.” Peter says, finally finding his voice. Stiles nods and then points his head in the direction of the staircase leading to the other wing of the house. The alpha’s headquarters. Peter follows obediently and looks around expectantly at the large room as Stiles shuts the door.

“Scent and soundproof, just in case one of the lot decides to come home. They know not to come up here.” Peter himself had only been in there a brief few times after the remodel but before Stiles and Derek became a couple. It was a lovely room.

It was masculine, decorated in shades of steel blue and charcoal grays. It was adult, but not stuffy. Simple and uncluttered, but with interpersonal and meaningful knickknacks strewn about. There was a small study nook for Stiles, no doubt for when he wanted to focus on one thing and not be cooped up in his lab. And there was an en suite bath with an all glass shower. Peter designed that himself. The room was well lit and clean, but lived in with pictures of them and the pack either in frames on the end tables and bookcases or on the wall. Peter sees a picture of himself alone on what seems to be Stiles’ side of the bed. He grins.

“Your family like this?” Stiles asks as he comes behind Peter, placing his hands on his hips and coyly undoing the button on his jeans. Peter huffs and turns around, smoothly removing his shirt rubbing at Stiles’ chest.

“I wouldn’t have thought so, but they have a way of being consistently surprising.” Peter leans forward, kissing Stiles softly who deepens the kiss, pushing Peter down on the mattress.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew Stiles and Derek were having problems, but what was Stiles doing fucking some stranger in their bed? Even if he really was a wolf from another pack, there’s nothing about this situation that doesn’t spell danger. Peter could think of a million more reasons he should leave, but they’re all trumped when scent of Derek fills Peter’s nostrils from the alpha’s pillow.

Oh god, _Derek_. His sweet, sweet boy. Peter didn’t mean to ruin Derek, and he wonders if maybe he hadn’t after all. Despite Stiles’ tongue in his ass saying otherwise, Peter could smell no strife in this room. It was filled with calm and peacefulness, a determined yet quiet kind of love and the smell of Derek’s contentment wafted from the pillow. It’s a smell Peter has lived without for far too long. Again, it’s the memory of a dream, but he’s had this. He remembers playing with Derek down by the brook, kissing his lips sweetly, so sweetly, licking the smile, being his superhero.

He wants to cry, he wants to cum on this bed and hopes that Derek smells it and thinks happy thoughts of him for once, finally. He wants... he wants this, but he wants it right. He knows Stiles’ fingers are in his ass, stretching him out, but he wants to tell him the truth. Needs Stiles to know who he is, why he’s there, he needs to make up for... for every-

“Peter.”

Peter’s eyes fly open as gathered tears drip down his face onto the bedspread. He knows that voice. Knows that name. Of course he does. He’d know his alpha anywhere.

He turns his head slightly and sees Derek standing in the door. Stiles has stopped fingering him and isrubbing a hand up and down his thigh. Peter inhales a sobbing gasp as Derek steps towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

Peter can barely see the man through his tears, but he can’t look away.

“Alpha.” he hisses, it’s tortured and desperate, so full of longing and needful of resolve.

“Shhh.. Peter. It’s okay. I’m here now.”

“But- but how?” He turns his head to Stiles who is still petting him, pacifying his ills, “How long have you known? I look different, I know-”

“Peter, _hush_.” Derek commands with a brief flash of his alpha eyes. Peter settles instinctively. Derek climbs on the bed and settles over Peter who is now smaller than him, in height and in breadth. Derek runs a hot, firm hand up and down the length of Peter’s neck. His touch is soft, so soft. “Stop being so stubborn, and let your alpha provide for you. You need this.”

Peter nods and Derek kisses him slowly, inundating his senses, exposing every nerve simultaneously in the wolf’s body. Every kiss Derek trails down Peter’s nubile body leaves a scorch of hedonistic thrill in its wake. Derek’s lips latch onto a nipple and Peter can’t help the keen he lets out into Stiles’ neck, the boy is still kissing him, touching him, keeping him grounded as their alpha tears him apart.

“Alpha please! Let me taste you!” Peter pleads as he grapples at Derek’s shoulders, pulling him up and then pressing his back into the mattress as he slithers his way down Derek’s body. Stiles’ is whispering something into Derek’s ear, but Peter’s head is too congested to make it out. It doesn’t matter, he’s wanted this for so long and here it was, lain out for him like a genie’s final wish. He kisses at Derek’s tip reverently and slips his tongue underneath the foreskin. Derek groans lightly, caressing Peter’s face and running his hands through Peter’s hair. It’s different from Stiles, more firm, more contoured. It’s been a long time, but Derek hasn’t forgotten, He never will.

“You’re so good, Peter. I haven’t been able to tell you that, and I’m sorry, but you’re so good right now. So eager to please your alpha.”

Peter whimpers at the praise and draws more of Derek’s length into his mouth, swallowing it down like a bomb pop on the hottest of days. Days like today.

Derek thumbs over the part of Peter’s cheek where the tip of his dick fills it out. “Yes, Peter. You’re always the villain aren’t you? But you want to be good, don’t you? You want to be good for me, want to earn my love?”

Peter can’t help but nod, but he averts his eyes from Derek’s appraising gaze, instead watching Derek’s chest rise and fall as he climbs up the alpha and prepares to mount him.

“No, Peter. Not like that. Like this.” Derek reaches under the wolf and braces him under his thighs before sitting up and laying Peter gently on his back. He wraps one leg around his waist and hoists the other up in the crook of his elbow. He leans over Peter and kisses him hard, eyes open, watching him as though if he breaks the gaze Peter may disappear. He just damn well might. Peter moans shamelessly as Derek breaches him, his turgid length filling the elder wolf in a way neither of them expected.

“Oh shit, Derek, Alpha… _Pet_! Please, _please_.” Peter thrashes his head back and forth as his body, soul and heart receive the brunt force of Derek’s physical manipulations. He can’t stand not having control, but he at once understands his need to lose it.

“Shhh… Peter, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Derek beckons, slowly grinding his hips into Peter’s younger frame, tapping into every vulnerability of the wolf and praising it in kind. “It’s okay, this right there, is okay. We have this time, let’s use it.”

Peter nods as Derek’s pace quickens and the slide of their skin creates a smooth friction. Peter can feel his orgasm coming so he grasps onto the back of Derek’s neck and leans forward, crashing his mouth into Derek’s, sucking eagerly on his tongue as his release is pulled from him like it’s being towed by a high powered freight train. He howls and comes hard all over himself and Derek’s belly before passing out.

***

When he wakes, he’s in Derek’s arm, the younger wolf is holding him tight with one arm, running the other up and down his body, petting Peter soothingly while he rests. Though his hands are on Peter, his eyes are on Stiles who is dozing softly on the other side of the bed. Peter opens his mouth, but he’s unsure of what to say. Thankfully, Derek seems to be prepared.

“It was too late for us, especially after Paige, after Kate, after Laura. It’s always been too late for us, but I knew, I always knew that you needed me. I just couldn’t give myself to you in that way. I know you get why.” Peter nods and looks up at Derek who is now watching him with a firm, but placating gaze.

“It’s not your fault, Pet. I’m a terrible beta.” Peter chuckles and Derek snorts at the understatement. He reaches over and brushes Peter’s hair to the side. He wears it shorter when he’s older, but when he was young it was always getting in his face.

“I don’t know how you did this to yourself. When Stiles told me, I thought it was too good to be true, but here you are. I’m glad this happened.”

Peter peers over to Stiles, “I don’t know how this happened either. I thought for a moment I wished it so, but I doubt anything is so serendipitous in this town?” As if on cue, Stiles sneezes in his sleep. Derek huffs and Peter looks at him expectantly. Derek shakes his head at his mate.

“Magic makes him sneeze.”

Peter should have known instantly that Stiles was behind all of this in his own way. He was always several steps ahead.

“How long have you known?” Peter asks listening to the placid sound of Derek’s heart through his chest. He inhales deeply, trying to store the memory for as long as he can.

“About your change? Stiles told me during his lunch break on Thursday when it happened. I thought he was crazy until he brought some pics home that night.” Peter grins as he remembers Stiles taking a picture of him with his phone for his contact. Derek turns to his side pulling Peter even closer into him. Peter goes willingly. “He’s always known our bond was frayed, he’s always had a second sense for that sort of thing. I knew the best way to repair the bond, we had to do it with Isaac after the bullshit with his dad, and with Jackson when he came back from London.”

“But you couldn’t with me.” It wasn’t a question, both men knew it was true.

“Peter, I’m sorry, but you were too, you’re too-”

“Broken.”

“Peter-”

“No, Derek-” Peter puts his hands gently to Derek’s lips, “-it’s okay, really, I get it. I know Stiles would never stop trying to fix the situation though. How did he convince you to do this?”

“He saw that you’d deaged and needed to see if you were simply younger, or if you were from the past. He was pretty impressed with your story, but I don’t know how you ever thought you’d get _Jack Twist_ past him.”

Peter laughs, “Jack _fuckin’_ Twist. Hey, it worked for the school board.”

“Peter, our vault has been under that school for a fucking century and they haven’t got a clue. There’s a wall with ancient ruins on it and they put a storage shelf in front of it.”

“His talents are lost there.”

“Thank god he’s great at independent study. Anyhow, once he ascertained that it was definitely you, he wanted to soften you up. He thought he might be able to take care of you on his own, but after the lake, he told me that you needed me. I can’t say no when it comes to the well being of my pack. Of _all_ of my pack.”

“I didn’t realize how much I needed some sort of resolution on us.”

“Me either. Stiles opened my eyes to it, I’m happy he got involved. Though I’m not so happy about how quick you were to jump his bones.” Derek says with a side eye and a grimace. Peter smirks.

“I thought you two were having problems! Besides, when have I ever been one to turn down a hot piece of ass?”

“Speaking of which, not like it’s any of your business, but Stiles and I are completely solid. We argue because that’s what we do, he challenges me constantly and I need that.” Derek pokes Peter in the chest. “And again, none of your business, but he’s a fantastic top. Stop projecting your bullshit on our sex life. I ride him like a malfunctioning bull at a rodeo. Coincidentally it’s usually when I’m done dealing with you!” Derek gripes, shaking his head as Peter reaches up to smooth out Derek’s furrowed brow.

“Sorry about that, I was definitely projecting.” Peter can’t help his resigned sigh, “So what happens when I go back, Derek? This was lovely, but I’m not fixed.”

“You can’t be fixed?”

Peter shakes his head, “No, but I do feel better.”

“It’s a start,” Derek states with a conciliatory shrug.

“Still, when I go back, I’m going to be me, nothing changes. I know you… _can’t_ , when I’m that version of me. I get it, too much has changed.”

“Stiles-”

“That boy is our better in every way.”

“Yeah. He is.”

“His dick is bigger than I thought it would be. It’s always the skinny guys.”

“Uggh, don’t make me regret this.” Derek says, rolling his eyes fondly. Peter runs his fingers through Derek’s chest hair.

“Oh I plan on making this experience wholly regrettable, but that’s for later. For now, I wouldn’t mind another lesson giving dicking from my alpha. You know… for sentiment sake, shore up the old memory banks?”

“Uggh, fine.” Derek begins to roll over on top of Peter, but Peter holds him back.

“First, wake up the boy.”

“Oh, so after all the pining my alpha dick isn’t good enough for you?”

“Can you blame me for wanting to double, double my enjoyment? I’m a product of the early ‘90s, it’s all about excess, Pet.” Peter quips. Both men are interrupted by Stiles suddenly stirring.

“ _Uggh_ , I’m awake. I was trying to pretend to be asleep so you two could have your moment, but I see the bud has fallen off this rose.” He sits up stretching, purportedly unaware of what the display of skin is doing to the wolves in the room. “I gotta say, it went on for longer than I thought. I’m proud of you guys.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life being flattered, but I assume I’ll only be in this twinklicious body for a short while longer, so how about we take advantage of my flexibility and we can do the soul stirring emotional bullshit when I’m back to being daddy af. That’s something the kids say now, isn’t it?”

“When you turn back, I’m buying an endless supply of duct tape.” Says… well, at this point it doesn’t matter. Peter just shrugs.

“I’m sure we can think of other things to stuff in my mouth so I’ll be quiet.”

Stiles laughs and slides casually and normally into Derek’s embrace. Derek nuzzles his nose.

“You couldn’t just send him back through time?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Derek obliges and Stiles scratches at his stubble, rubbing his lips along Derek’s jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Peter watches the two of them, stroking himself slowly as the love of his alpha and alpha mate seem to permeate the room, filling him with a sense of connection and purpose. He’s spent so much time mourning the loss of what once was, that he’s never given himself the chance to appreciate the newness of what they have. He wasn’t lying though, he may never be _fixed_ , but he does feel better. He sees his pack as the family it is and understands that he could have a place in it. He understands the tightness in his chest was the pack bond waiting to click into place and now he heads towards that goal with a purpose. He’ll do any and everything he can to make the Hale Pack the greatest pack this country has ever seen.

Right after he gets spitroasted by his alpha and alpha mate.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, kids.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos and feel free to follow me on [Tumblr!](http://ficcindylan.tumblr.com)


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